


Drabbles from North of the Wall

by suspiciousteapot



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: F/M, It's a mixed bag folks, one is smutty, some are relationshipy, some aren't, the rest aren't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:25:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspiciousteapot/pseuds/suspiciousteapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Compilation of some ficlet-y headcanons from words submitted to thedisreputableblogger on tumblr. <br/>List of prompt words + the characters they apply to:<br/>Haunting - Touchstone<br/>Forgive - Lirael<br/>Kinks - Sabriel (Sabriel x Touchstone)<br/>Haunting - Nick<br/>Hope - Ellimere<br/>Loss - Sabriel<br/>Friend - Sabriel<br/>Lover - Lirael (Lirael x Nick)<br/>Happiness - Nick</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Characters and whatnot belong to Garth Nix.  
> As always, comments, etc are much appreciated. If you had thoughts, drop a note in the comment box. If you particularly like one, tell me which. If you particularly didn't like one, also tell me which. I love to chat, and I swear I don't bite, so leave a little note. Thank you!

**Haunting - Touchstone**

Touchstone still feels his chest tighten whenever he walks into the throne room.

Even though it’s been redone, he sees Rogir chase him around the pillars, laughing. His sisters, slipping him pastries and playing pranks on him, explaining all that was going on and making him giggle. His mother, tall and regal, presiding over subjects, councilors, foreign officials. Sitting on a throne identical to the one he now sits on. 

Standing with his fellow guards, keeping his family safe. Succeeding all but once.

 

**Forgive - Lirael**

A sudden fury rose in Lirael. She flung the sculpture at the wall, willing to hear it shatter, so she would not be left of this poor replica of her friend. 

It fell, unbroken. Not even chipped. She sank with it, hair pooling around her as tears pooled in her eyes.

She’d left. Abandoned her, when she’d been her reason for living.

Left her with a cold statue that no magic could move to flesh.

She couldn’t bear to pick it up, to look at it. 

She spoke little, seeing her sister and the King’s signals to leave her be. 

For the first time, she could not distract herself with reading, not when she knew no warm head would wiggle up under her arm and ask for a walk, or a bone.

Until one day, her fists no longer clenched when she walked by it, lying forlorn in the corner of her room.

Until finally, she could pick it up and weep from sorrow, and not frustration. 

Until at last, she could hold it close one last time, remembering her friend even as she left her image back where they’d met.

 

**Kinks - Sabriel (Sabriel x Touchstone)**

She presses a kiss to his lips as she presses the blindfold around his eyes.

He playfully strains up against the bonds, shivering as she bites his lower lip lightly.

She grins and nips a bit lower.

 

**Haunting - Nick**

A voice in dark, twining around him and squeezing the breath from his chest as he slept in the large, comfortable room of the Abhorsen family home.

A harsh whisper, tainting his opinions with its venomous hate and his tongue with a metallic edge as he tried to be open to the new world he’d chosen.

A deep, destructive anger, rearing up unexpectedly at the merest frustration as he practiced a craft he’d derided.

A memory, fading in the light of the Charter.

 

**Hope - Ellimere**

Charging down the field, ahead of the others, tasting already the joy of the goal.

Straining her ears for the proud trumpet of her mother or father’s return. 

Hearing the diamond close in on the darkness that threatened to wash their world away.

Seeing her family rise from the ashes of destruction. 

Sitting on throne that was her birthright and, for the first time, feeling something other than grief.

 

**Loss - Sabriel**

The crossbow’s bolt hurts less than the realization that she could not save him.

The sword’s cut was a papercut compared with the sight of her oldest, dearest friend lying lifeless at the front of hall with the others.

Saving lives did not not heal the pain of missing her children’s lives. 

Loving her sister now did not ease the fact that she could not love her before, when she had so needed it.

 

**Friend - Sabriel**

Sabriel flopped over Ellimere’s bed, reading a history of the Old Kingdom for the thousandth time as Ellimere practiced field hockey against the wall, incurring Mistress Withersmith’s wrath. How, the mistress wondered, could such a quiet, solemn girl be friends with such a rowdy hooligan?

Sulyn threw her arms around Sabriel as she met her friend at the Wall, holding on to her memory of the schoolgirl even as she tried to come to terms with the strange warrior whose wedding she was attending. “Step in, it’s safe, I swear. And I’ve mastered it well enough that we can have a bit of fun with it.” A cat-like grin. Perhaps not so different after all.

Sabriel - she had, ironically, all but ordered him to treat her as an equal - studied her ominous book with fierce eyes.  She did not look up as Damed sat, but her eyes pierced his at the soft thunk of the mug of spiced cider he set beside her book. “You look like you you could use a break, Sabriel.” Her eyes softened as she smiled and nodded ruefully. “That I do. Bottoms up!” He laughed. Fierce only when necessary, then. He could certainly relate to that. 

Touchstone rested his head on her shoulder, awkwardly managing a hug around the broad chair. She huffed a laugh at his attempts. “Care for a walk?” He hummed in agreement. Through the spiralling expanse of the castle, the length of the perfumed gardens, or the cool, twisting paths along the shore, wherever their voices carried them.

 

**Lover - Lirael (Lirael x Nick)**

He listened when she spoke, and respected when she needed silence. He could tell when she needed a hug, and when it would make her uncomfortable. When using her hair to hide her face was a sign of concentration, and when it was a sign of sorrow.

He was eager to learn about her world, and to share his with her. He knew that sharing things she didn’t know about her favourite topics was something oddly touching to her. They often read and talked late in the night, and worked on joint projects or research in their spare time, what little of that there was.

He understood her boundaries, even when she didn’t realise them until they walked smack up against them. And she his. He understood that sometimes she didn’t like it when people touched her without asking or warning. That sometimes her mind still succumbed to its dark corners, and what to do when it did.

She knew the same of him; when he needed to talk, or walk. When he needed to rant, or share his excitement. When he needed someone to take him out of his nightmares, waking or dreaming. 

She knew that he enjoyed more physical contact, and how compromises could be made between them - simply holding hands was often a satisfying solution. She knew that he often forgot to eat when he was entrenched in a problem, and that he felt the cold easily. That making him tea was a small gesture of great comfort to him. 

Not that is was like that from the start. Though they had many similarities, there was much to overcome, much to learn, both about each other, and about who and how they were together. Romance was not something either was familiar with, and it took them some time to understand that their relationship need not be like those they saw around them. There was awkwardness, shyness, and uncertainty. There were disagreements. There were difficult periods, sometimes alleviated by separation, sometimes intensified by it. But they would close the rifts would, iron out the disagreements, and talk through the difficulties. No matter how much work and time it might take, they always knew they wanted the other by their side for the rest of their life. 

 

**Happiness - Nick**

Worry, when the paper airplane Lirael flew on the power of a whistle shot up into the air, bearing him towards his new life.

Frustration, when his Charter marks blazed out of control or petered out, leaving only the sharp smell of the Magic that tainted his blood.

Doubt, when he could not seem to fit in or accept the world he'd chosen. When people looked at him with suspicion, and wrinkled their noses and whispered as he walked by. When even his best friend was not the boy he'd known, distant with a new purpose that Nick did not know or understand. When Lirael left almost as soon as they'd returned, and barely spoke to him otherwise.

Hope, when the castle and its people started to become familiar and he began to understand their way of life. When his hard work began to pay off, and his Charter marks stabilized and could be combined to spells. When Ellimere introduced him as a dear family friend to everyone she knew and arranged lessons for him. When the Abhorsen and the King smiled and told him he was settling in well, that they were glad to have him here. 

Happiness, when he talked with Lirael through the night, and explored the city with her. When he began to understand Sam's creations and could talk with him as they had before, but now with more understanding and imagination. When the Royal family cared about him as though he was their own. When people began to smile and greet him with an arm grip. When he could explain with science what could not be explained with magic, by magic what could not be explained with science, what could be explained with both, and how they could explain each other. When he asked, and Lirael said yes.


	2. Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of very short ficlets written based on a character and a theme, as requested on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated :)  
> 

**a-dark-day asked: Just Ellimere.**

For years, Sabriel delighted in making Ellimere smile. She held her when she cried, played with her as often as she could, and cheered her on in field hockey games. 

Now as her daughter came home and declared she had joined the field hockey team, Sabriel simultaneously felt something inside her break, and something else heal. 

 

**a-dark-day asked: Clariel and Mosrael.**

Since she was little, Clariel had dreamt of taking to wing, flying to the forest in whose cool embrace she longer to spend the rest of her days.

This came back to her, suddenly and vividly as the creature thrumming with Free Magic below her transported her away from the forest, towards the city she so abhorred. 

Belisaere felt like it had been no more than a bad dream, but it had woken something in her, a thirst for control that could never be put back to sleep.

 

**queensabriel asked: Touchstone, surviving**

The glint of the knife traced across her neck, freeing the blood inside, and Touchstone screamed as though it was his own. It was. He flew at the stained creature who wore his brother’s face, yet in its cruelty, it merely laughed and rebuffed him, leaving him to the Abhorsen and grim survival.

Staring at the shine of the dim sun off Sabriel’s hair, words eager to tip off his tongue, he finally decided to let them past his lips. If this was to be their last day, let at least one moment of it be spent _living_.

 

**fullofstoryshapes asked: Loss of control, Ellimere or Nick :D**

“ - _bastard_.” 

The girl was on the ground, sobbing, nose bloodied. 

Hands were pulling her away, yelling at her to stop. 

Ellimere sat in her bed, uncharacteristically alone quiet. Berserker, she’d heard her father say. A death sentence to her dreams of someday following in his footsteps.

“Ellimere.” Familiar grey eyes met hers, surprisingly calm, not angry as she’d expected.

“I’m so sorry. I… I think there’s something wrong with me.” She whispered, unwilling to confirm to her father that she couldn’t be his heir, but knowing it was her duty to do so.

“Darling, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re a berserker, you got it from me and I’m sorry for it. It’s been passed down in our family for generations.” 

She stared at him in shock. Generations of royals had this?

“But how… how can they rule with this? How can _you_?”

Touchstone smiled gently and put an arm around her. “Another trait that is strong in our blood is willpower. Determination.” 

Ellimere felt hope once again paint the future she’d dream of. Control was something she’d always strived for. This was simply one more test.

 

**evanthelynn asked: Mogget, released of his ranna collar by Lirael**

_[note: this is an AU wherein Lirael grows up with Sabriel]_

Father’s cat brushed up against her leg, purring quietly.

Lirael happily picked up up and place him in her lap, giggling as he rolled about, stretching his neck to suggest she scratch there next. 

He seemed bothered by the collar, so she reached to unbuckle it, encouraged by the increasing volume of his purrs. As she did, the small bell on it tinkled, causing a sudden wave of exhaustion to sweep her eyes closed, her hands falling from the clasp. 

Mogget hissed and dug his claws into her leg, but it was no use, the small Abhorsen was fast asleep.

Tail twitching back and forth in annoyance, he stalked off. _So close._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Hope you enjoyed it :)


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